2| Platinum [Pietro M.] ✔

46. The Raft

A faint crash startles me from the void of my mind. It sounds almost like thunder but muffled. Was it thunder? There's also the slightest tilting back and forth. If you're not consciously thinking about it you could miss it. It feels like I'm on some sort of boat. I can't be on a boat, can I? Wait...what happened?

Where am I?

With blurred and unfocused eyes, I try to crane my neck in an attempt to identify my location. Faint yellow caution lines, white identification numbers, deep grays, and dull uniforms. I can make these sights out, but their meanings just barely manage to evade my foggy mind. My sense of tactile comes back just in time for me to feel my feet dragging against the grated floors. In addition, I can feel sturdy arms wrapped under my own to hold me up as I'm lugged along a long hallway. On either side of the hall are thick doors with small windows, almost like...prison cells?

My eyes shut as my face drops. Pain erupts in my brain as it feels like I've been hit in the back of the head with something heavy. "No." I shakily whisper before I look up again. The scene around me has changed. I'm back in Russia again. I'm being dragged by sentinels, robed in fur coats and wearing smirks on their lips. I find myself in a mint colored hospital gown. Phantom pains from the past plague my body. "No, not again." I remember this. This memory has plagued my sleep for nearly a year now. This time it's so much more hyperrealistic.

My jaw tightens and I shut my eyes tightly. I cannot be back here. I know I can't...I refuse to be. A shuddering exhale escapes me as panic suddenly wells up in my chest. It's Russia. I'm back in Russia. Why am I back in Russia? Whatever may remain of HYDRA must have found me, right? I cannot let them turn me into some mindless tool. I need to get out of here.

I force my feet under me before throwing all of my weight to the right. I crush one of the guardsmen into the wall and listen to him shout in surprise and pain as he slumps to the floor. Before the second man can get a grip on the situation, I throw my weight in his direction and allow my forehead to collide with his. His arm drops from holding me up and I nearly fall to the floor. The panic slowly begins to die down, along with my hallucination of the inescapable labyrinth of the HYDRA facility. I'm no longer in Russia.

I'm in a completely unfamiliar place with two unconscious guards lying to my right and left. Instead of a hospital gown, I'm fitted with a pale blue prison outfit that resembles scrubs. I begin to feel weak in more than one way. I don't know what's happening, but it's like all my energy is seeping out from my limbs. I stumble forward a few steps as my breathing turns into short gasps as my heart thunders against my chest in a dangerous rhythm. My knees grow weak as I grow cold. My shoulder crashes against the wall as I tip to the left in a vain attempt to stay on my feet. Soon the short gasps stop and I'm left trembling against the wall without the ability to inhale or exhale.

I can't breathe. I cannot physically make myself breathe. Something or someone is siphoning my energy like a leech. I'm entering treacherous waters now. I lean my head against the wall as the thunder of boots reaches my ears. I shut my eyes and tilt my head back in a futile attempt to obtain oxygen. That's when my body jolts and my eyes fly open. Once again I'm in Russia, but all I can see is blood. There's blood on the walls, the floors, and the ceiling.

I remember this.

There are limp bodies of guardsmen that look like they've been thrown around like rag dolls. Some are decapitated and others look like they've literally exploded. My body slides backward and I land with a quiet thud on my back, my knees folded under myself. The back of my head erupts in pain as my past dissipates like a cloud of fog. There's a guard leaning over me, but my eyes can't seem to focus on him. I can no longer hear the blood coursing through my ears. I'm in some sort of odd silence that's settling yet unnerving.